Читать книгу Poems of Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal) - Charles Baudelaire - Страница 20
ОглавлениеBeauty
| I’m fair, O mortals, as a dream of stone; My breasts whereon, in turn, your wrecks you shatter, Were made to wake in poets’ hearts alone A love as indestructible as matter. A sky-throned sphinx, unknown yet, I combine The cygnet’s whiteness with a heart of snow. I loathe all movement that displaces line, And neither tears nor laughter do I know. Poets before my postures, which I seem To learn from masterpieces, love to dream And there in austere thought consume their days. I have, these docile lovers to subject, Mirrors that glorify all they reflect— These eyes, great eyes, eternal in their blaze! |
